Dan vs Superman
by Sivad Ttarp
Summary: Dan travels to Metropolis to take his revenge on the Man of Steel, where he and Chris stumble into Elise's secret investigation of Lexcorp. Turns out Dan isn't the only one with a grudge against Superman...
1. Chapter 1: The Challenge

**Dan vs. Superman**

**By Sivad Ttarp**

Chapter one: The Challenge

"Good morning ladies and gents," Helicopter Hal's voice droned out of the old AM radio, filling the battered red hatchback with a sort of dull static/chipper voice combination. "Hot times are upon us, and in the height of summer there's nothing hotter than a rush hour traffic jam. A couple accidents, a dash of roadwork, and an overturned semi filled with bananas and nobody's going to be getting anywhere quickly today. Better wish your AC works."

"Yeah," Dan grunted, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "I wish my AC worked too." He jabbed the radio off with his thumb so hard that the button popped and rolled under his tattered seat.

"Great," Dan rolled the driver's side window all the way down. He stuck head out and, glared down the street.

His car sat motionless, its engine rumbling, one in a row of stationary automobiles stretching into the distance in either direction. Equivalent rows stretched, three out, on either side. Traffic in each lane had come to a standstill.

"I don't know about you degenerates," Dan said loudly, "But I put gas in this car to make it go, not just so I can sit here and listen to white noise on every station!"

No one responded, or even acknowledged his complaint. Dan plopped back down in his seat and yawned in boredom, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His black t-shirt stuck to his back. He took a deep breath. It tasted like exhaust. Not as bad as mace, but still no fine cigar.

Dan reached into his pocket and produced a worn little notebook and a stub of a pencil he flipped it open, and scanned his own chicken-scratch handwriting. This page of "The List" read thusly.

Phonebooks.

Baby shoes.

Worcestershire sauce.

Idiots.

Voicemail.

Dachshunds

Heartburn

Heartburn medicine

Judy Garland

Dan quickly scrawled the word 'Cars' at the bottom on the page. He paused

Momentarily, scratched stroking his stubbled chin, biting the tip of his tongue in concentration. Deep in thought.

Dan scratched out the word 'Cars', completely ignoring the pencil stub's very functional eraser, and instead wrote "Other People's Cars". He punctuated generously, and stuffed both pencil and paper deep into the pocket of his jeans.

Dan sighed and reached down to turn on the radio. He grunted in recognition when his finger found no button to push. He'd have to find that sometime, glue it back on. He probably had time, considering that even a snail's pace would quickly outdistance this particular flow of traffic. Dan always kept a tube of super glue in the glove box, for times just like these.

He was about to go for it, when the industrial warehouse about a mile down the highway and to the left exploded in a geyser of flame and debris. A hefty chunk of flaming concrete nailed the minivan next to Dan right in the hood, and the gas tank ignited in another blast of fire. Dan rolled his window up quickly, but the heat still singed his eyebrows and turned his arms and face bright red.

Panicked screams rang out across the motorway. Tires squealed and fenders crunched into each other as drivers tried and failed to extricate themselves from the traffic. Abandoning their vehicles, men, women, and families dragging their children, raced past on foot.  
"What?" Dan scoffed. "Never seen any fireworks before, I…oh."

The explosion had been just the beginning. From the shell of the warehouse, a massive metal beast was emerging. Its main body was the size of a small building, and shaped suspiciously like a human skull, made of jagged black metal with two glowing red eyes. It moved like a spider on a series of spindly metal legs, and trailed long metal feelers that twisted and gyrated like animate whips.

The robot clambered out of the wreckage and into the street, skewering and crunching abandoned cars beneath its legs. The feelers whipped around, severing one car in half, and tossing a minivan high into the air, before it slammed down on an oil tanker. Another huge explosion.

As those flames too subsided, a beam of red energy issued from between the creature's eyes, drawing a line of melted slag along the businesses along the street side. At least one two story building collapsed in on itself.

Maybe I should get moving, Dan thought. He opened his car door and stepped out. The tarmac shook under his feet.

He felt the breeze as something zipped past from behind, right over his head. His messy hair was ruffled. The green blur circled the robot, and paused before it, hanging in the air. A man, clad in a formfitting green and black costume. Emerald green energy surrounded him, keeping him afloat. Dan was no expert on superheroes, from his experience they came off as pompous and overrated. But even he recognized Green Lantern.

Ducking behind the car door, Dan watched. This could be good. Citizens still ran screaming past them, some of them were on fire, but Dan did his best to ignore them. Giant monsters were nothing he hadn't dealt with before. If he thought about it, he could still remember the taste of vegetables. Never again.

A massive fist of green energy slugged the robot, sending it stumbling on its many metal legs. Green tendrils, pincers and clamps, all appearing from Green Lantern's ring, wrapped and folded around the robot, entwining it, holding it fast.

Until the laser beam blasted at the emerald knight, nearly knocking him out of the sky. A green shield appeared in front of Green Lantern, replacing the assorted instruments of bondage, as he switched to defense. As the energy beam bore down the green shield constantly eroded and replaced itself, as Green Lantern was pressed slowly back under the assault.

A slot in the robots forehead opened, revealing the tip of a rocket. The missile was ejected right at Green Lantern, trailing smoke and flame. It impacted, and a huge explosion of orange and yellow flame filled the air between the combatants. His shield destroyed, Green Lantern went tumbling in a slow, green-laced arc, disappearing into the wreckage of a nearby sandwich shop.

The giant skull robot went back to smashing cars. It impaled a pickup truck with a sharp leg and flung it into the air, Dan cheered as one its whips sliced the truck in half. This was exactly what he'd wanted to do to other people's cars. "Dang, I wish I was driving that thing," Dan whispered reverently.

"Citizen, you've got to get out of here, get somewhere safe." Dan jumped at hearing the rich, authoritarian voice from behind him, bonking his head on the car door. Another superhero was behind him, a guy Dan didn't recognize. This man looked strong, and wore an orange shirt of scale-like armor and green pants, but all this was secondary to his flowing blonde hair that would put any hair product commercial from any brand for any audience thoroughly to shame.

"What do they call you," Dan looked him over, seeing the golden harpoon he sported for a left hand, "Captain Hook?"

"I am Aquaman, master of the deep," the man announced, gravely.

"Deep what? Deep back in the makeup section? Because, man-"

"This is irrelevant," Aquaman shouted, "That robot is coming this way. You've got to get under cover."

"I'll do what I like," said Dan, "You're not my boss. I can handle myself. That's what I hate about you superheroes; just because you can fit into those tights makes you think you're all the master race. Well, I got rights, and-"

The wave of salty water burst from the manhole ahead of him and enveloped Dan in its chilly embrace, propelling him down the highway. He hit a mini-cooper on the hood, and rolled off.

"You can walk from there," Aquaman called down the street.

"Very heroic," Dan shouted, squeezing water out of his shirt as he ducked out of view behind the trunk of an abandoned car. "Why didn't you do that to the robot, instead of some innocent bystander?"

"Oh," Aquaman smiled, "I'd just be getting in the way," as a red and blue blur ruffled his luscious hair.

Long red cape, red and blue uniform, square jaw, underwear on the outside, Dan recognized the most famous of all superheroes in an instant. So did the robot.

The robot hurled a semi-truck at Superman, but the Man of Steel caught it in midair, and lowered it gently in a nearby parking lot. A pair of missiles impacted where he stood, and he disappeared in a ball of flame.

The robot was just turning away from the fresh crater, when Superman bounded out into the air, unharmed. The robot activated its heat ray, but Superman flew right under the beast. Twin beams blasted from the flying man's eyes, severing one of the robots legs. It slammed to the tarmac, flattening a motorcycle.

The tip of another missile emerged in the robot's forehead, ready to fire. Superman took a deep breath and blew. Ice coalesced, freezing the missile in its weapons bank. It exploded a second later, tearing a hole through the robots face. Oil spurted, and loose wiring sparked and sizzled within the shredded metal surface.

A trailing tendril whipped through the air to wrap around Superman, swinging him down to slam into the road. The cement cracked under the impact. It brought him down again, but before it could bash him a third time, Superman tore his way from its grip, snapping the tip of the metal tentacle into bits. A second tendril whipped toward him, but Superman caught it, and yanked. The robot head beast was pulled off its feet to slam down into the ground.

Superman sped through the air toward the damage in the robot's forehead, firing his red eye-beams at the beast, pockmarking its armor all the more. But when he arrived, a massive surge of electricity flashed across the metal surface, sending him sailing back.

Determined, Superman reached behind him, and seized a battered red car; he hurled it through the air at the robot, and then launched himself behind it. The body of the car took the brunt of the electrical field, and Superman blasted right through its metal frame with his eye beams, disappearing into the hull metal monster.

He was out of view for a few seconds. One glowing robotic eye exploded outward in a shower of sparks. Then the other. Superman burst through the metal armor, tearing out of the back of the robots head. He accelerated into the atmosphere as what was left of the robot exploded. A large shard of metal armor took out a convertible only a few yards away from Dan.

The wreckage flamed contentedly, like an open fire in a Christmas hearth. There was no sign of Superman.

Sirens wailed in the distance as emergency vehicles arrived. Fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars: each conveniently missing the heat of the action.

Dan gulped. He'd seen what happened. But he had to make sure.

Down the street, Aquaman was tearing open the canopy of a squashed car with his golden hook to release the young couple trapped inside.

Dan crept past him, toward the flaming husk of the war machine. He ducked behind a line of cars. Aquaman didn't notice him, and when he got far enough away, Dan broke into a sprint.

In the distance, he vaguely noticed Green Lantern stumble out of one of the destroyed buildings, holding a hand to his head, as if he had a hangover.

The heat from the robot's corpse was almost unbearable, but it was not the only corpse Dan had eyes for. The car was destroyed. Bits and pieces all over the ground, a red door here, a stain of melted rubber there. Dan's car was no more.

His companion, his vehicle, his friend. Dan fell to his knees, overwhelmed with emotion and shock. It had all happened so fast, but now the reality set in. the reality of a future without transportation. The reality of the destruction of his private property without so much as a batted eye, all in for a cause he wouldn't endorse. Heck, Dan had wanted to adopt the robot thing, not destroy it. He felt the rage gather within him. His hands started shaking. Someone was going to feel his wrath.

Dan threw back his head and yelled. "SUUUUUUUUPPPPEEEEERRRRRMMMAAAAANN!"


	2. Chapter 2: Plan of Attack

Chapter two: Plan of Attack

"In a shocking turn of events earlier today, a block of highway in downtown Los Angeles was ravaged by a giant robot. Fifty-three civilians received mild to severe injuries, and property damage escalated into the billion-dollar range. Fortunately, the Justice League arrived before any casualties to battle and destroy the robot. Sighted members include Aquaman, Green Lantern and Superman."

Dan's fists clenched. He yelped as Mr. Mumbles claws jabbed into his leg through the material of his jeans. She'd been startled as his stroking had been interrupted by his grabbing a handful of fur. The cat bounded off his lap, and disappeared under the sagging couch. Dan sighed and leaned back against the threadbare sofa.

The news reporter droned on from Dan's boxy old television, accompanied by blurry photos of the superhero-on-robot battle he'd witnessed in person earlier that day. "The robot looked very similar to offensive robots used by the hostile alien Brainiac. Viewers may remember Brainiac's attack on the United States last year, nearly destroying Metropolis. Brainiac was defeated by Superman and Supergirl. Could this mean a return of this dangerous enemy of humanity? We bring you this footage from a JLA press conference with Superman himself."

He filled the screen. Chiseled jaw, black forelock, tight blue chest piece with that logo emblazoned over his musculature, his cape draped behind him. Dan sneered. It wasn't as if the Man of Steel was glancing in his direction with his x-ray vision. But you'd never know, it was always a possibility.

He stood in front of a banner bearing the seal of the Justice League of America. Superman spoke calmly into the microphone in front of him. "Yes, the robot that my colleagues and I battled earlier today does resemble one of Brainiac's drones. I had also, until very recently, believed the alien super-intelligence to be deceased. The Justice League has retrieved the debris for analysis, and we are cooperating with the United States Military to search the area. I myself, with a few other Justice League members more suited to non-atmospheric survival will sweep the area of space around the Earth for signs. I have yet to be fully convinced this is another Brainiac attack, but if it is and he is back, your heroes will be here to protect your planet.

"All I can suggest for the moment is that you remain calm. Be prepared, be careful, watch the skies, but do not panic. It won't solve anything. Thank you."

Dan switched off the television right before throwing his remote against the wall. Dan leaned over the arm of the sofa and groped through a rolled up newspaper and an old half-empty pizza box to find his phone. He dialed the first and only contact.

Chris answered on the third ring. "Hello, this is Chris. Who is this?"

"It's me," Dan shouted. "Who'd you think it was? Who else ever calls you?"

"Um, my wife, my parents, telemarketers, general extended family, various job leads, why?" Chris asked.

"Well, um, why didn't you look at your stupid caller ID?"

"I'm trying to make a…well, cook this…I'm doing a food thing and my hands are kind of covered in-"

"Never mind!" Dan shouted. "This is urgent!" He heard a satisfying clatter as Chris dropped his phone.

"Who do you want to get revenge on this time?" Chris asked, once he'd recovered his cellular device. "The NSA, the IRS, the CIA? Maybe a celebrity or a minor politician. I hear New Mexico is lovely this time of year if you're itching for a rematch."

"No, nothing so unwarranted," said Dan. "It's Superman." The sound of Chris sputtering at the other end of the phone assured him he was on the right track.

"Superman? Seriously? He's like the most powerful superhero ever. And he's also like the nicest guy ever. He's a big boy scout."

"Wrong," said Dan. "He destroyed my car. Annihilated it."

"I don't suppose you got insurance since last time…" Chris mused.

"Of course not," said Dan, "What am I, stupid? Where would I get that kind of money?"

"Probably my bank account," said Chris, "And I did change the password by the way, in case you're wondering…"

"Whatever," said Dan. "Superman is the target."

"How?" asked Chris. "That guy is like invincible. Terrifi-guy was bad enough, and he was like an d-list superhero, not even Justice League material. Superman's not going to have some silly little weakness like a rock or something."

"No one is invincible," said Dan. "I always carry around a little hot sauce, just in case. It does come in handy, considering the low standards of food preparation in this town."

"Think about this," Chris suggested, "I mean, Superman protects the earth from all sorts of giant tornados and evil gorillas and things."

"There are plenty of other losers in tights hanging around the local youth hostel," said Dan. "Besides, I'm not going to kill him. Just break his femur. Maybe scare him a little so he'll be a little more considerate the next time he's swinging his fists around next to my property."

"Have you got any kind of plan?" Chris asked.

"We go to Metropolis."

"And?"

"And we go to Metropolis."

"That's it?"

"Of course not, but it's the beginning," said Dan. "I'll tell you the rest later." Once he thought of it. In any case, Metropolis was the highest-ranked city for Superman sightings five years running (or so it had just said on the news). Something would come up.

"I don't know Dan," said Chris. "Metropolis is kind of on the other side of the country."

"We can fly."

"That costs money, Dan."

"You've got all those frequent flyer minutes saved up from your wife's job."

"That's true," Chris admitted.

"Also," Dan threw his ace into the hole, "Elise is in Metropolis right now on a business trip."

"Yeah. I am…actually really surprised you remembered that," said Chris. "She is."

"You could stop by. Whisper sweet nothings. Be spontaneous and prove once and for all that you're not just boring and submissive."

"I'm not," Chris said. "And…I have always wanted to see a bit more of what her business trips are like. And I miss her. And I'm bored. And it would be cool to see Metropolis."

"And, and, and," said Dan. "You can pick me up." He hung up before Chris could respond.

Dan chuckled maniacally, rubbing his hands in glee. Mr. Mumbles gave him an odd look. "What?" He grimaced at her. "Of course I'll leave you all the food you can eat."

Dan stretched out on the couch, crossing his ankles on the armrest. Metropolis's so called Man of Tomorrow was about to become last week's news.


	3. Chapter 3: Dancing Shadow

Chapter 3: Dancing Shadow

Lois Lane. The journalist sat cross-legged on a bar stool, dressed in the semi-formal clothing of someone with something to prove, and enough confidence to believe they've already proved it. The Daily Planet journalist's black hair was a sharp angular bob, her wide eyes filled with curiosity wrapped in snide cynicism.

We're really not so different, thought Elise.

"I've only got a few moments," said Lois, glancing around the small and primarily deserted bar.

"Enough time to finish your story, perhaps," Elise pressed. She was all too aware of the three mafia members (she'd surmised) in the corner booth and bartender, each of whom kept glancing her way. Two pretty young-ish women, a reporter and a redhead, tended to attract attention in a bar this seedy, even at noon. Elise felt an instinctive longing for her combat uniform. She wore her usual jeans, white t-shirt and sneakers. Not that it mattered. She could still kill everyone in the room in about a minute if it suited her fancy.

"Right," Lois drained her shot glass. Elise's was on the counter in front of her untouched.

The story continued. "So after the statement that the cancer research, the one based on the radiation from the ship the US government acquired from General Zod's invasion a while back, was inconclusive and falsified. The project just disappeared. Literally, the scientists are missing, the ship is gone, and the official records are wiped. The entire research facility was bought out and the think tank collapsed. The company was Lexcorp."

"Interesting, but hardly conclusive," said Elise.

"That's what Perry's been telling me for years," said Lois. "But you've got to realize this isn't the first time something like this has happened. Whether it's the Bizarro clone or the dinosaurs from the Savage land, something's been sweeping stuff under the rug. It's always subtle, it's always legal, and it's always Lexcorp."

"Interesting," said Elise. "This makes you suspicious, because…?"

"I'm a professional," Lois rolled her eyes. "I'm not suspicious. I'm incredibly curious. I'm meeting Lex at his main office for an exclusive interview tomorrow actually."

"About this?"

"Hell no, I'm not stupid, this'll be more of an opinion piece. But it'll give me a solid chance to look around."

"I see," said Elise. This wasn't nearly as helpful as she'd hoped.

"Lexcorp doesn't take kindly to curiosity," Lois explains. "They take shipments every night at the west end of the docks for their local R&D lab departments, but they own all the warehouses and all the freighters. There are armed guards and fences. Lots of fences."

"Are there now?" said Elise. "That is interesting."

"Your turn," Lois demanded. "This is fair trade, remember."

"Of course," said Elise.

"So…tell me."

Elise sighed. She had the boss's approval, his orders even, but it didn't mean she had to like it. A leaked case was a leaked case, even if the agency wanted the information out there. "You want to know what really happened to the Premier of Corto Maltese last year?"

"Of course I do."

"And you'll write about it?"

"Of course I will."

"Right," said Elise, taking a deep breath. "It was a dark and stormy night…"

…

PRIVATE PROPERTY!

PROPERTY OF LEXCORP!

TRESSPASSERS WILL BE SHOT AND PERSECUTED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW.

_Charming, _Elise thought snidely, _you'd almost think they didn't want anyone to drop by uninvited_.

She stood before the ten foot tall chain-link fence surrounding the Lexcorp owned-area of the Metropolis docks. Beyond it was warehouse after warehouse, and dock after dock and stack after stack of industrial containers. She had eyes for the farthest end, where a cargo ship had pulled in only minutes previously. It was time to get some answers.

There was an entrance a ways down the fence, a gate with a toll-booth like check-in building where Lexcorp's SUVs and semi-trucks could come and go as they please. Too much trouble. Just a hop, skip and a jump and Elise was over the fence and melting the shadows.

She was glad the fence hadn't been electrocuted. One less complication. Even Lex Luthor needed to put on a good face for the people of Metropolis it seemed.

Elise crept toward her target, sticking to the shadows, avoiding the bright circles of light the powerful lamps cast from their stock-metal towers, as well as the occasional armed guard with a flashlight, making their rounds.

Elise wore her work clothes: Black cloth all over from mask to slippers, with a dark red scarf trailing from her neck and a katana on her back. Making her way to the cargo vessel and its current unloading, she followed her ninja training in more than just style of dress.

The warehouse separating her from the loading dock was well guarded (as was to be expected). High above the box-like building, a crane lumbered along its track, lifting cargo containers from the ship and placing them on waiting flatbeds or in stacks at the docks where they were catalogued and stored, many whisked away into the depth of the warehouse through its opened garage doors.

Armed guards outnumbered the clipboard wielding supervisors ten to one, and even the unarmed workers looked big and brawny enough to hold their own in a fight. Elise hoped it wouldn't come to that

There were too many people to risk sneaking in by any ordinary means. Elise took a silent running leap and latched on to the wall. The spikes she'd grabbed from her utility belt (one for each hand) gave her all the purchase she needed to scale the wall. She was peeking over the edge of the roof moments later.

A flat graveled roof, with a booth-like protuberance housing the stairs leading to lower floors. A skylight was set into the roof as well, a trio of extended pyramidal structures of glass with metal frames. A guard paced, slouching, his automatic rifle trailing from his hand.

Elise put a thin metal tube to her lips and blew. The dart pricked the guard in the neck, and he collapsed in an unconscious pile. He never saw her coming. She pulled herself onto the roof, and moved in a crouch toward the skylight.

Elise produced a goggle-like pair of lenses, placing them to her face. She observed the proceedings below, over the edge of the roof, her goggles snapping photographs all the while. Most crates were catalogued and stored by clipboard information alone; giving her no chance to see what was inside. She'd need a closer look at one of those clipboards.

One crate, an unassuming yellow affair identical to all the others, was cracked open, and a smaller black box, like a square metal coffin, was removed. Surrounding workers were shooed away as a pair of men in lab coats looked over it. Finally, with an incredibly cheesy air of qualification and importance, one scientist unlocked the casket and popped the lid.

Elise didn't have the best angle, but with her gadget's zoom capabilities she managed to glimpse something unsettling. A shiny silver faceplate and armored torso. She'd seen all the briefings, Elise new a Brainiac drone when she saw one.

The box was quickly closed again and carried into the back of a waiting SUV. Elise got several photographs of the proceedings, last but not least of the woman standing by the car, watching the whole thing, dressed in a grey semi-militaristic chauffer's uniform that left her long legs bare, and a cap over her short blonde hair. Once the crate was loaded, she got into the front passenger of the car, and the SUV drove off. She moved like a dancer, with deliberate strength. Elise had read her file too. Mercy Graves. Lex Luthor's own girl Friday.

Underneath the beeps and scrapes of the crane, Elise heard the squeal of the lock in the door behind her. She tensed, and turned. It was too late to dive into hiding, the door was open, and a Lexcorp security guard was through. He grabbed for the pistol at his belt, but Elise already had her blowgun to her lips. The dart went in under his chin and he crumpled.

But there was a second guard right behind him, clutching his nightstick. The guard switched on a walkie talkie fixed to his collar, but Elise had already crossed the distance between them (faster than reloading and more reliable at keeping him from sounding the alarm). She leapt, landing on him in a crouch, her toes on his chest, one hand grabbing his collar; she brought her fist back and smashed it into his nose.

He fell, her on top of him. Elise tore the walkie talkie away and hurled it across the roof. The nightstick hit her in the side of the head, and she saw black. The guard shoved her off him, but she bounced up to her feet. She blocked a swing of the nightstick with her left forearm, and snapped him a right jab.

The guard with the club grabbed for his pistol, and Elise kicked out, knocking his hand away. He propelled himself forward, grabbing her by the shoulders like a sumo wrestler. Elise dug in her heels, unable to reach another of her weapons while shoving back at him. She stomped at his foot, and push came to shove as he tumbled forward, propelling her back off her feet with his momentum. Elise slammed into the skylight, and fell through as the loosely fastened lock snapped open and the glass hatch fell away beneath her.

Elise spun in midair, pulling a gun-like handle from the folds of her clothing. A metal cord shot from the tip when she pulled the trigger. The teeth of the hook at its tip bit into the ceiling, and the cord went taught, swinging Elise in an arc of the ground to land in a crouch atop a metal container, stacked two high.

That was when the alarm started blaring. The docks below were filled with people staring at her, guard, scientist and laborer alike.

"Aw, nuts," she swallowed.

Elise leapt as the bullets began to fly. Sprinting down the length of the box she catapulted herself into the air and landed in a roll on top of a single yellow cargo container below. The cracks of automatic weapons fire filled her ears. Bullets zipped past and pinged against the metal containers. Elise seized the edge of the roof and flipped down to land behind the crate, on the side away from gunmen. She sprinted into the maze of crates.

Elise took two rights and then a left. She remembered there was a door around here somewhere.

Two gunshots dented the door of a crate behind her. A guard with a handgun had just come around the far corner. Elise ducked back behind the crate, where another gunman had arrived. She seized his outstretched arm and yanked him around; the gun in his hand went off. Farther along, the other guard collapsed. Elise hoped she hadn't hit anything vital. These were private security, white-collar thugs. Not worth killing. Her organization thrived on manipulating people like this. Besides, war with Lexcorp was not her objective, at least not yet.

The guard struggled, Elise crouched and pulled his arm, flipping the guard over her body and down onto his back. She rammed her palm into his throat. She was up and running before he even closed his eyes.

A big guy blocked the path ahead, slapping a nightstick against his palm.

"Seriously," Elise kicked off the crate to her right and caught him in the air, clotheslining his neck with her left leg. This guard went down hard on his back, and her elbow drove into his face. Elise rolled to her feet and swung around the corner…

And dropped, sliding on her knees under the blade that would have cut her in half. Laughing, the security guard twirled his two short swords. Elise slid the katana from the sheath on her back. It was an unavoidable fact of fieldwork: carry a sword and as soon as hell broke loose you would be required to fight someone with a sword.

"I really wish I had time for this," Elise told him as he made his move. A high slash with one sword, lower with the other, she blocked them both. He blocked her strike with one sword and stabbed with the next, she danced back out of reach.

A series of parries and stabs followed, and Elise was obviously the more accomplished duelist, still he was taking effort to defeat, and other guards would be closing in on their position. She swung from above, and he barely managed to catch her sword between his pair. She snapped her foot up into his crotch, and punched him across the face with the hilt of the blade.

He fell against the wall of a nearby crate, but lunged at her again. The katana bit deep into his left arm, and the sword went from his grip. Elise slashed hit across the chest, and he collapsed. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to bleed him and give him something to think about while she made her escape.

The lights dimmed, as the garage doors off to the side trundled shut. Elise heard a growl deep in the warehouse. They had dogs. Perfect. She'd hoped to avoid to risk of damaging/unleashing something dangerous, but the time for diversion had come. Elise tapped the detonator on her wrist. The charge she'd planted on the roof of the first crate she'd landed on blew.

The geyser of flame went up the ceiling, and the burning wreckage tumbled sideways into a neighboring stack, which teetered at the impact and finally tipped, several tons of metal cargo slamming down and cracking against the concrete, and knocking other piles off balance like dominos.

Elise's grappling hook's aim was perfect. She was pulled up off her feet, and propelled herself back through the skylight through which she'd come.

The guard who'd pushed her down was waiting for her. He jumped into action, scrambling for his recovored radio, but her taser was faster. He was thrown back off his feet and into unconsciousness by the electric charge.

"Sorry," said Elise "Hadn't gotten the chance to use that yet."

A few quick glances showed that Lexcorp guards had secured the perimeter around the building. Any attempt to clamber down would be met with bullets. Nearby, far closer than the nearest building, a cargo crate hung in the air at about roof height. The crane had paused in midair, its task put on hold after the intruder alarm and the shooting had broken out.

Elise hurled a spread of flash-bang devices off the roof. As they impacted below, causing confusion and intermittent gunfire among the guards below, she leapt once more. This was a close one. She caught the edge with her gut, and pulled her rest of herself up onto the crate.

Elise laid, her cheek against the cold metal, swinging slightly in midair. All was still for a moment.

Then the crate began to move. The crane was lowering it to the dock. She'd been seen.

"Fine," said Elise. She'd been hoping it wouldn't come to this.

She jumped one last time, straightening into a dive. She broke the surface of the water below like a human torpedo. It enveloped her, embraced her, immersed, black and cold all around.

Leaning over the edge far above, gun after gun was fired into the depths after her. But Elise was long gone, swimming down and away. She relied momentarily on her powerful legs while adjusting the scarf over her mouth. Her eyes stung as she bit onto the underwater breathing device sown into her scarf. The harbor was much dirtier than she had expected. _You'd think it was Gotham, _she rolled her eyes, remembering last years 'Business' trip (it had panned out about the same, just with more clowns).

…

"Dancing Shadow, you have had two missions within your current operation. Am I correct in assuming the first is complete?"

"Yes, I leaked the story to the Daily Planet," said Elise, "With your requisite alterations of course."

"And they'll be printing it?"

"It's Lois Lane," said Elise, "Of course they're going to print it. Nobody sells papers like Lois Lane."

"Right, I'm a big fan- I mean I am familiar with her work."

Elise sat cross legged in the middle of the queen-sized bed in her room at the Metropolis chapter of a nation-wide hotel chain. The room was comfortable, and very reasonable ordinary for the middle-class young married computer programmer set, which was her (not entirely inaccurate) cover story.

She had her laptop open before her. Its screen was occupied by a single jagged line of color, which she'd come to identify as the face of her commanding officer.

Elise rubbed at her eyes; her hair was still wet from the shower. "I've already uploaded my photos from my little outing earlier this morning" It was already around 5:00 AM.

"Yes, your second mission: investigate Lexcorp. Not moving quite so easily, is it, Dancing Shadow?"

"It's moving," said Elise quickly.

"From our surveillance, as far as we can tell, you weren't recognized or traced," said the line on the screen. "Lexcorp has already put out an official statement, condemning the culprit as a, I quote, "Costumed deviant." They seem to think you were one of the many capes and tights that crop up throughout the major cities. All's well with that."

"Yeah," said Elise, "And I seem to think we were right about Brainiac. Someone is using his abandoned tech, and it definitely looks like Lexcorp is in on the action."

"We just need more information," said the boss. "Maybe you could get inside?"

"I can," an idea was forming in Elise's mind, "But I'm not sure Dancing Shadow will get very far without meeting the barrel of a gun. Lois Lane however…"

"You know how we feel about you involving civilians…"

"Oh, no," said Elise. "Impersonating civilians. We're about the same size…"

"Impersonation is entirely acceptable," said the boss. "Keep me apprised of your progress." The link was severed.

Elise stifled a yawn. No rest for the wicked, which meant there'd be no rest for the morally ambiguous either. She began a comprehensive internet search using the key words 'Lois Lane'…


End file.
